Part Four Chapter IV

IVThe authority ab read up Parminder on the council website had driven Colin W all in alls fears to a nightmarish new level. He could only guess how the Mollisons were getting their information, and if they knew that to the highest degree Parminder For Gods sake, Colin Tessa had verbalize. Its just malevolent gossip on that points nothing in itBut Colin did not dare regard her. He was constitutionally pr atomic number 53 to believing that others too lived with secrets that drove them half(prenominal)-demented. He could not nonetheless do comfort in knowing that he had spent most of his adult life in dread of calamities that had not findd, because, by the law of averages, superstar of them was bound to keep up honest one day.He was thinking ab appear his imminent exposure, as he melodic theme about it constantly, enchantment walking back from the hardlychers at half-past two, and it was not until the katzenjammer from the new cafe caught his startled attention that he realized where he was. He would name crossed to the other side of the Square if he had not been already level with the Copper Kettles windows mere proximity to any Mollison frightened him now. Then he saw something by dint of the glass that do him do a double-take.When he entered their kitchen ten minutes later, Tessa was on the cry to her sister. Colin deposited the leg of lamb in the fridge and marched upstairs, all the way to Fats garret conversion. Flinging open the room accesssill, he saw, as he had expected, a deserted room.He could not remember the last time he had been in here. The horizontal surface was covered in dirty clothes. There was an odd smell, even though Fats had left the skylight propped open. Colin noticed a large matchbox on Fats desk. He slid it open, and saw a mass of twisted cardboard stubs. A software system of Rizlas lay brazenly on the desk beside the computing machine.Colins heart seemed to have pennantpled down out of his chest to thump ag ainst his guts.Colin? came Tessas voice, from the landing below. Where are you?Up here he roared.She appeared at Fats door looking frightened and anxious. Wordlessly, he picked up the matchbox and showed her the contents.Oh, express Tessa weakly.He verbalise he was passing game out with An draw Price today, verbalise Colin. Tessa was frightened by the muscle working in Colins jaw, an angry undersized bump moving from side to side. Ive just been past that new cafe in the Square, and Andrew Price is working in in that respect, mopping tables. So wheres Stuart?For weeks, Tessa had been feign to believe Fats whenever he say that he was difference out with Andrew. For socio-economic classs she had been telling herself that Sukhvinder must be misinterpreted in thinking that Fats was going out (would condescend, ever, to go out) with Krystal Weedon.I dont know, she give tongue to. Come down and have a cup of tea. Ill ring him.I think Ill wait here, utter Colin, and he sat down on Fats unmade bed.Come on, Colin come downstairs, said Tessa.She was scared of leaving him here. She did not know what he might reign in the drawers or in Fats school bag. She did not trust him to look on the computer or under the bed. Refusing to probe subdued corners had become her sole modus operandi.Come downstairs, Col, she urged him.No, said Colin, and he crossed his fortify like a mutinous child, but with that muscle working in his jaw. Drugs in his bin. The son of the deputy headmaster.Tessa, who had sat down on Fats computer chair, felt a well-known(prenominal) thrill of anger. She knew that self-preoccupation was an inevitable consequence of his illness, but sometimes Plenty of teenagers look into, she said.Still defending him, are you? Doesnt it ever die to you that its your constant excuses for him that make him think he can get aside with blue murder?She was trying to have got a curb on her temper, because she must be a buffer amongst them.Im sorry, Colin, but you and your lineage arent the be all and end I see so if I get the carrier bag Why on earth would you get the sack?For Gods sake shouted Colin, outraged. It all reflects on me its already bad liberal hes already one of the biggest problem students in the Thats not true shouted Tessa. Nobody but you thinks Stuarts anything other than a normal teenager. Hes not Dane TullyHes going the same way as Tully drugs in his bin I told you we should have sent him to Paxton High I knew youd make everything he did all about you, if he went to Winterdown Is it any wonder he rebels, when his every movement is suppositional to be a credit to you? I never lacked him to go to your schoolAnd I, bellowed Colin, jumping to his feet, never consanguinityy wanted him at allDont say that gasped Tessa. I know youre angry but dont say thatThe preceding door slammed two floors below them. Tessa looked around, frightened, as though Fats might materialize instantly beside them. It wasnt mere ly the noise that had made her start. Stuart never slammed the front door he usually slipped in and out like a shape-shifter.His familiar tread on the stairs did he know, or suspect they were in his room? Colin was waiting, with his fists clenched by his sides. Tessa perceive the creak of the halfway step, and therefore Fats stood before them. She was sure he had arranged his expression in senesce a mixture of boredom and decline.Afternoon, he said, looking from his arrive to his rigid, filtrate father. He had all the self-possession that Colin had never had. This is a surprise.Desperate, Tessa tried to show him the way. pa was worried about where you are, she said, with a plea in her voice. You said you were going to be with Arf today, but Dad saw Yeah, change of plan, said Fats.He glanced towards the stupefy where the matchbox had been.So, do you want to tell us where youve been? asked Colin. There were w jar againste patches around his mouth.Yeah, if you like, said Fats, and he waited.Stu, said Tessa, half whisper, half groan.Ive been out with Krystal Weedon, said Fats.Oh God, no, thought Tessa. No, no, no Youve what? said Colin, so taken aback that he forgot to sound aggressive.Ive been out with Krystal Weedon, Fats repeated, a comminuted to a greater extent loudly.And since when, said Colin, after an infinitesimal pause, has she been a wiz of yours?A while, said Fats.Tessa could see Colin struggling to formulate a question too atrocious to utter.You should have told us, Stu, she said.Told you what? he said.She was frightened that he was going to push the assertion to a dangerous place. Where you were going, she said, standing up and trying to look bailiwick of fact. Next time, call us.She looked towards Colin in the hope that he might practise her lead and move towards the door. He remained fixed in the middle of the room, unadulterated at Fats in horror. ar you tortuous with Krystal Weedon? Colin asked.They faced each other, Colin taller by a few inches, but Fats holding all the power.Involved? Fats repeated. What dyou mean, involved?You know what I mean said Colin, his face growing red.Dyou mean, am I shagging her? asked Fats.Tessas little cry of Stu was drowned by Colin shouting, How bloody dare youFats merely looked at Colin, smirking. Everything about him was a taunt and a challenge.What? said Fats.Are you - Colin was struggling to find the words, growing redder all the time, - are you sleeping with Krystal Weedon?It wouldnt be a problem if I was, would it? Fats asked, and he glanced at his mother as he said it. Youre all for helping Krystal, arent you?Helping Arent you trying to keep that addiction clinic open so you can help Krystals family?Whats that got to do ?I cant see what the problem is with me going out with her.And are you going out with her? asked Tessa sharply. If Fats wanted to take the row into this territory, she would meet him there. Do you actually go anywhere with her, Stuart?His smirk sicke ned her. He was not prepared even to attain to some decency.Well, we dont do it in either of our houses, do Colin had raised one of his stiff, clench-fisted arms and swung it. He connected with Fats cheek, and Fats, whose attention had been on his mother, was caught off hold he staggered sideways, hit the desk and slid, momentarily, to the floor. A moment later he had jumped to his feet again, but Tessa had already placed herself between the pair of them, facing her son.Behind her, Colin was repeating, You little bastard. You little bastard.Yeah? said Fats, and he was no longer smirking. Id rather be a little bastard than be you, you arseholeNo shouted Tessa. Colin, get out. Get outHorrified, furious and shaken, Colin lingered for a moment, past marched from the room they heard him stumble a little on the stairs.How could you? Tessa speak to her son.How could I acknowledgeing what? said Stuart, and the look on his face appal her so much that she hurried to close and bar the bedroom door.Youre victorious advantage of that girl, Stuart, and you know it, and the way you just spoke to your The fuck I am, said Fats, walk up and down, every semblance of cool gone. The fuck Im taking advantage of her. She knows exactly what she wants just because she lives in the fucking Fields, it doesnt the legality is, you and snuggery dont want me to shag her because you think shes beneath Thats not true said Tessa, even though it was, and for all her concern about Krystal, she would smooth have been glad to know that Fats had sense enough to wear a condom.Youre fucking hypocrites, you and Cubby, he said, still pacing the length of the bedroom. All the coddle the pair of you spout about wanting to help the Weedons, but you dont want Thats enough shouted Tessa. Dont you dare speak to me like that Dont you realise dont you sympathize are you so damn selfish ?Words failed her. She turned, tugged open his door and was gone, slamming it behind her.Her exit had an odd effect on Fats, who stopped pacing and stared at the closed door for several seconds. Then he searched his pockets, drew out a cigarette and lit it, not bothering to blow the flock out of the skylight. Round and round his room he walked, and he had no control of his own thoughts jerky, unedited images filled his brain, sweeping past on a tide of fury.He remembered the Friday evening, nearly a year previously, when Tessa had come up here to his bedroom to tell him that his father wanted to take him out to play foot oaf with Barry and his sons next day.(What? Fats had been staggered. The suggestion was unprecedented.For fun. A kick-around, Tessa had said, avoiding Fats sheen by scowling down at the clothes littering the floor.Why?Because Dad thought it might be nice, said Tessa, bending to pick up a school shirt. Declan wants a practice, or something. Hes got a match.Fats was quite nigh at football. People found it surprising they expected him to dislike sport, to disdain teams . He played as he talked, skilfully, with many a feint, fool the clumsy, daring to take chances, unconcerned if they did not come off.I didnt even know he could play.Dad can play very well, he was playing twice a week when we met, said Tessa, riled. Ten oclock tomorrow morning, all right? Ill wash your tracksuit bottoms.)Fats sucked on his cigarette, remembering against his will. Why had he gone along with it? Today, he would have simply refused to participate in Cubbys little charade, but remained in bed until the shouting died away. A year ago he had not yet understood about au thenticity.(Instead he had left the house with Cubby and endured a silent five-minute walk, each evenly aware of the enormous shortfall that filled all the space between them.The playing field belonged to St Thomass. It had been sunny and deserted. They had divided into two teams of three, because Declan had a friend staying for the weekend. The friend, who clearly hero-worshipped Fats, had joined Fats an d Cubbys team.Fats and Cubby passed to each other in silence, while Barry, easily the worst player, had yelled, cajoled and cheered in his Yarvil accent as he rupture up and down the pitch they had marked out with sweatshirts. When Fergus scored, Barry had run at him for a flying chest bump, mistimed it and smashed Fergus on the jaw with the top of his head. The two of them had fallen to the ground, Fergus groaning in pain and laughing, while Barry sat apologizing through his roars of mirth. Fats had found himself grinning, then heard Cubbys awkward, booming laugh and turned away, scowling.And then had come that moment, that cringeworthy, pitiful moment, with the scores equal and nearly time to go, when Fats had successfully wrested the ball from Fergus, and Cubby had shouted, Come on, Stu, ladLad. Cubby had never said lad in his life. It sounded pitiful, hollow and unnatural. He was trying to be like Barry imitating Barrys easy, unself-conscious cost increase of his sons trying t o impress Barry.The ball had flown like a cannon ball from Fats foot and there was time, before it hit Cubby full in his unsuspecting, foolish face, before his eyeglasses cracked, and a single drop of blood bloomed beneath his eye, to realize his own intent to know that he had hoped to hit Cubby, and that the ball had been dispatched for retribution.)They had never played football again. The doomed little experiment in father-son togetherness had been shelved, like a dozen before it.And I never wanted him at allHe was sure he had heard it. Cubby must have been talking about him. They had been in his room. Who else could Cubby have been talking about?Like I give a shit, thought Fats. It was what hed always suspected. He did not know why this hotshot of spreading cold had filled his chest.Fats pulled the computer chair back into position, from the place where it had been knocked when Cubby had hit him. The authentic reaction would have been to shove his mother out of the way and pun ch Cubby in the face. Crack his glasses again. Make him bleed. Fats was disgusted with himself that he had not done it.But there were other ways. He had overheard things for years. He knew much more about his fathers cockeyed fears than they thought.Fats fingers were clumsier than usual. Ash spilt onto the keyboard from the cigarette in his mouth as he brought up the Parish Council website. Weeks previously, he had looked up SQL injections and found the line of code that Andrew had refused to share. After perusal the council message board for a few minutes, he logged himself in, without difficulty, as Betty Rossiter, changed her username to The_Ghost_of_Barry_Fairbrother, and began to type.